The Princess And The Peasant
by Lollipop456
Summary: AU. A young American woman has always thought that the Irish were nothing but senseless and foolish. Then when she met him. Her heart had a sudden change. Johnny/OC
1. Chapter 1

New York. I was often led to believe that my city would remain decent and a proper place to raise a family. That was only a fairytale. All it took was one ship, a ship carrying thousands of immigrants from Ireland. Then more ships and more Irish folk. Pretty soon it seemed as though New York was becoming a wasteland for common Irishmen to roam around. When I was no more than ten, I could remember a war. A war between not between two but two hundred men and more. How pitiful it is when men use actions and not words. That was the reason that I knew I would never wed. If all men did was fight and curse, then they were no use to me. Then one day, one man changed that. One poor Irish boy. A thief no less. However, before I go on. I believe that I must give a proper introduction. My name is Harriet. Harriet Elizabeth Young.


	2. Chapter 2

I woke up in my bed on a rather sunny Sunday morning. I could feel the sun beat against my face as it gleamed through the curtains of my window. Carefully, I turned onto my side and rose out of bed. I slipped my feet into my morning slippers and wrapped myself in my morning robe. I went to the window and undraped the curtains, just so I could see how dreadful the city of New York was this certain morning. Just as I suspected, I could see probably ten or more Irish men walking through the streets. How can I tell the Irish from the Americans? There are many ways. For one thing, the Irish are not exactly what you and I would call clean. They often wear clothes that you would find simply on the streets, or perhaps clothes that haven't been washed in days, possibly weeks. They also have no way to clean their teeth or to comb their hair, which makes their appearence nothing short of disgusting. Another way you can tell the Irish from the Americans, is simply by watching them walk. Most Irish people seem to stumble, as though they've been drinking for days, which, knowing how often the Irish drink, they probably have. American people, like me, may desire a sip of wine during dinner or lunch, but nothing more. Of course, it was the bottle that killed my father three years ago, he was probably picking up the habit from the Irish. I could probably tell you all why there are more reasons to despise the Irish, but I fear this is not the time or place. After gazing out my window, I went over to wardrobe and stripped myself naked. As much as I fear to say it, I do find myself to be rather specific about clothing. How I dread dressing myself every morning. There is so much to wear. First comes my pantalette, then came my chemise and corset, and then my petticoat. Oh, how I hated wearing my hoop! I could hardly stand because it was so heavy. Carefully, I slipped the metal monster over my head and fitted it around my waist. Then, I putted it on another petticoat, it was rather warm but I did feel a breeze from time to time, it was wise for me to wear another petticoat, just to be safe. Now, came the hardest part for me, choosing which dress I wanted to wear. I own over 60 dresses, and so it's very difficult to decide on most days. On this day, however, I decided to wear one of my favorite dresses I have ever worn in my life. It was made of purple velvet, and the neckline was trimmed with lace, I simply love it! After putting on my dress, I knew it was time to fix my hair. I closed my wardrobe and went over towards my mirror, I opened up my jewelery box where I kept all of my hair pins. Pin by pin, I piled my hair and braided it into a bun. I grabbed my gloves off the foot of my bed and then slipped into my socks and boots, I ran to the top of the stairs. I slowed myself and tried to walk downstairs at a slower pace. Mother was already in the dining hall as well as my older brothers, Michael and Mitchell.

"Good morning!" I said, as brightly as I could.

"Look Mitch, sleeping beauty has finally stirred from her tower!" Michael laughed.

I balled my hands into fists, ready to take a hit at Michael. Then, I remembered I was a lady, and I couldn't do something that would upset my mother or society for that matter. My hands relaxed and I took my seat next to my mother.

"So, Harriet, where are you off to this morning?" Mitchell asked.

"I just thought a little stroll around the city would do some good. My skin is rather pale." I said.

"Oh, then THAT would explain the ghost I've seen around our house." Mitchell said.

Michael suddenly rose from his seat and began making the most awful moaning noises I have ever heard. Not wanting to hear anymore of brother's teasings, I rose from the table and went towards the foyer. I grabbed my bonnet off the rack and tied it around my head. I took my brooch off the main table in the foyer, it was a Christmas present from my father just before the day of his death. I pinned it to my dress and then stepped outside, with my parasol in hand. As absurd as this may seem, I do fear walking down the streets without my brothers or mother. I just fear that the one of the common Irishmen will take out a knife and slice my throat, I had read about it in yesterday's paper! Murders are often commited by the Irish. I tried to walk calmly, especially when I noted that a strange man was following me. After crossing the street, he was still following me. I finally turned to him, completely angered by how it seemed as though he were creeping towards me like a panther!

"You aren't a stray dog, so why are you content on following me everywhere that I go?" I asked.

"I apologize. Not often I see a young lass strolling the streets." The man spoke, with an obvious Irish accent.

"Oh, well THIS explains it. So often I see an Irish bastard roaming around simply waiting to abduct a woman." I said.

"Now come, lass. You musn't poorly of my kind."

"Your kind is exactly why I see blood on the streets. Excuse me."

I walked away from the man, and he seemed to turn away. Only seconds later did I realize that my brooch was missing. That Irish boy must've taken it! What choice did I have? Could I just forget the brooch? No, not after Father had given it to me. I had to find that man and force him to give it back. I knew the authorities wouldn't handle this matter. Always busy stopping other people. I had to find him myself. Thankfully, I saw him dissapear around a corner and ran after him.

"Stop! Give me my brooch!"

As I ran down a dark narrow, I tripped and fell. I yelped in pain which caused the man to turn around. He ran back over to me and knelt at my side.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I just fell. Aren't you going to take off with my brooch?"

"I didn't take your brooch. Jewelery doesn't suit the Irish. Is it your foot?"

For awhile, I was stunned in silence. If he didn't make my brooch. Then I must've lost it in the streets where anybody could find it and steal it. To top things off, I made a terrible error in my judgement. Not about the Irish in general, but about this certain Irish man.

"No. It's my ankle."

"Think you can stand?" The man asked.

"Of course I can!"

I leaned against the wall as I struggled to stand on my own two feet. My ankle felt incredibly painful, but I couldn't let him help me. If my Mother or brothers saw him, they'd throw me in my room and do God only knows what to the Irish boy. I couldn't allow that after I had judged him in such an intolerable matter.

"Do you think you can make it home?" The man asked.

"I'm certain. Thank you for kindness."

I only made it four steps away before I collapsed at knees.

"Face it, lass. You're injured. Let me take you home."

"I said, I can walk. Thank you again."

I limped all the way back home, although it was extremely late by the time I had made it and after supper. My mother looked crossed until she saw my ankle.

"Good heavens, Harriet. What's happened to your ankle?"

"I just need to soak it in ice water. It will be fine."

"What happened?"

"I saw this Ir...I just fell, Mother. I just fell." I said.


	3. Chapter 3

Mother didn't want me to attempt walking up stairs with my twisted ankle, so instead she insisted that I sleep in a chair in the parlor. She placed my foot in a large bucket of ice water, and wrapped it in a bandage.

"I don't understand how your ankle could become twisted just from falling. It sounds unlogical."

"Well, I was running. Perhaps I tripped."

"Does it hurt to stand?"

"Only a little. Perhaps Michael or Mitchell can carry me up to bed."

"Nonsense. I'd prefer you sleep in here. Just to be safe."

"Mother, I'm all right-"

"No arguments,Harriet."

"Yes, Mother."

After two hours, mother fell asleep at my side. I carefully slid my foot out of the water and managed to stand. My ankle was feeling somewhat better, I just knew I had to find the man I met and apologize to him. I had been so prejudiced. However, I had no idea how to find him. The only way I would be able to find him would to be ask other people, people from Ireland. I guess it was a risk I had to take. If my mother or brothers even knew I met an Irish man they would despise me. That's why I had no choice but to do this in secret. I walked down every street, limping at times, trying to recover information about the Irish man. All I was able to discover was that his name was Johnny and he had been living in New York for most of his life. Also, he was a thief. As I had suspected. Though, I still couldn't ignore the fact that he tried to help me and he DID NOT steal my brooch. I was about ready to give up on my search, when I saw Johnny trying to steal a watch from a man's pocket and he succeeded.

"I thought jewelery didn't suit the Irish man?"

Johnny turned around and seemed frightened by my appearance.

"I thought you went back to your home, lass."

"I did. For awhile. I know I was wrong to judge you. After all, you did offer to escort me home. I thank you for that. I also apologize for my prejudice."

"I don't blame you. Most Americans often think we're out to slice them, but we're not. We're people to. Just because we come from a different land, doesn't mean we don't share the same cousins."

"That makes perfect sense, actually. You're a very smart person. You could be considered for a position on the press."

"No. They don't trust me."

"You mean they know you're Irish?"

"Yeah."

"I know those who are prejudiced. However, that is simply discrimination. It's wrong."

"Not in their eyes, lass. In their eyes, I'm only one thing. A poor Irish man."

"Well, in my eyes, you should at least sit down and talk to them. I do have connections. I can find you a wonderful job."

"You don't understand. I'm not meant to be kept in an office. I'm not made to wear tailored suits and carry a cane. I'm a thief. I'm Irish."

For awhile, I didn't know what to say. Johnny turned to leave but I grabbed him by his arm.

"Johnny, please. There must be some way I can apologize for my prejudice."

"Come with me."

"What?"

"Come see my world, lass. It may not be as grand as your home and as clean as these streets but it is my world."

I nodded. Johnny took my hand and began leading me around. We finally ended up in an unfamiliar place. Or a place that I didn't recongize, at least. There was lots of activity. Dancers, fiddle players, gypsies. It was all very exciting and quite frightening. Suddenly, Johnny squeezed my hand.

"Relax. Nobody will touch you." Johnny said.

Johnny led me to, what seemed to be, a penthouse of sorts. The steps were steep and narrow. Johnny was the first to go down the steps and then he helped me along. It was dark and damp and not to mention very cold.

"Johnny, its so dark."

"It's all right. Nothing down here but rats and a nice warm bed."

"Rats?"

"Now, don't be afraid. They don't bite. At least not the Irish like me."

"Rats can tell the difference?"

"Of course.We are their cousins, after all."

"Oh Johnny, can you not forgive me for all that I've said?"

"It's not you, lass. It's the world. Y' know, I still don't know your name."

"My name is Harriet. Harriet Young. I know its a rather odd name, but I do love it."

"Its not odd. It's beautiful."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah. At least you're not a bastard."

"A bastard? You mean you-"

"My Mam, God rest her, was a whore. She loved me, though. When I asked her about Da, she was too ashamed. I never bothered to think about it. Back when I was a lad, there was only one way to gain money. Sell something of value. The Irish had only the clothes on their backs and the food on their tables. They were provisions. Not wanting me to go hungry, Mam acted out of love."

"What happened to her?"

"When I was about nine. My Mam was outside with a client and I was waiting for her. He was American. I didn't think much of it. Not until I heard five gunshots. I ran outside and my Mam was dead."

"She was shot?"

"I try not to think about it."

"Oh Johnny, I'm sorry. If I had known..."

"It's all right, lass. I don't blame myself. There was nothing I could do. I was still a small lad and-"

Suddenly, Johnny broke down in tears. At first, I didn't know how to act. Then it came to me. I had to console him somehow. Carefully, I wrapped my arm around his shoulder and kneeled by his side.

"I lost my Father when I was young. It's very painful. For awhile, I blamed myself. Then I realized something very important. It was his time. As it was your mothers."

Suddenly, I felt something wet hit my hair. I looked up and saw there was a rather large hole in the ceiling and it was raining.

"Oh for Heaven's sake, I'm getting wet."

"Afraid of rain?"

"Well, of course not."

"Then ignore it. It's only water."

"Harriet?"

"Yes?"

"Can I ask something?"

"Of course."

"Can you kiss me?"

"Kiss you? On the lips?"

"You said you wanted to repay me. Its the only payment I ask. One little kiss."

"Well, if you insist it's the only payment."

Slowly, I leaned towards Johnny's face and kissed his lips tenderly. At first, I thought I should pull away. Then, I realized, I DIDN'T want to pull away. I wanted to keep kissing Johnny. So I did. Before I knew it, I could feel Johnny unbuttoning the back of my dress, then my whole dress fell to the ground.

"Johnny, wait..."

"Doesn't this feel right?"

"Oh Johnny, I don't know you at all. We come from two different worlds."

"I don't care and I know you don't care either. Just stay with me for one night."

"Only one night?"

"Just one simple night."

Being a guillble young lady, I agreed to continue with the seduction. I removed my petticoat and the dreaded hoop. Johnny slipped his hand behind my head and kissed my neck. It felt so different than a regular kiss. It was filled with such passion. A passion that I never thought I could feel.

The next morning, I felt so drained. As if all my energy had been taken away. I saw all my clothes laying on my right side and Johnny was on my left. We were only covered by a single blanket. Carefully, I placed a kiss on Johnny's cheek. He woke up after feeling the touch of my lips.

"Harriet, is something wrong?"

"Nothing. I just need to return home."

"It's not even sunset. Stay for awhile."

"Johnny, I gave you what you wanted. I seduce you. I'll never forgive myself. It was a mistake."

"Didn't you feel something?"

"I did."

"Then why ignore what you feel?"

"Johnny, I know that I will never meet another man like you and I believe I have fallen in love with you. Despite my family, despite my upbringing. In a fantasy, I would be with you. This is the real world, Johnny. You're Irish and I'm American. We have to forget this night."

"Do you want to forget it?"

"No."

As I began to cry, I hugged Johnny. I could feel his warm hands running up and down my back. I could hear him whispering soothing words into my ear. I wanted this moment to last forever, but I knew it couldn't. I just knew I had to make it last for as long I could.


End file.
